Journey's End
by engineerftw
Summary: He was left with no other choice. He could do nothing else to repay her for all she had accomplished by his side, for everything she meant to him. Doctor/Companion AU.


**Journey's End**

He tries as best he could to reign over his expression, not wanting to give away any bit of the whirlwind of emotions and memories flashing through his mind as he explains to her what she has to do.

He hopes he manages to project his usual confidence and bravado, because even though he knows this is the right thing to do, he feels miserable. She has been by his side for longer than he cares to acknowledge right now, always strong and determined, never wavering.

The memory of when they first met plays out in front of him. She was gorgeous, sure, just like she had been ever since, but he had never been one to pay much attention to looks. What he _had_ noticed was the fierce scowl, the fire burning in her blue eyes, the take-no-shit attitude when he had barged in on the stage of her investigation. He considered himself quick witted and he thought that he could shut anyone up that bothered him or impended the course of his actions, but her unrelenting disposition and sharp mind had given him a run for his money. He supposes that he had forgotten what it entailed to fight for some greater purpose than his or random strangers' lives, what drive it gives to defend loved ones, people you can relate to.

Upon looking back, he is surprised to have taken an interest in her so quickly, considering his unfavorable prejudice for anyone carrying a gun.

He had had no choice but to intervene; her and her fellow police officers had absolutely no idea what they were really up against. For him though, it was an uninteresting case, really. A rogue Cyberman, crashed somewhere in Scotland and merely acting upon its basic programming. He wondered at the time why the TARDIS had even brought him there in the first place. When he met her however, she was something different altogether. She had tried to protect him, even though she had looked at him like she might have enjoyed to gut him herself. She had however been left with no other choice but to rely on him, trapped as they had been by the Cyberman with nothing but the TARDIS to escape. She haddeclared adamantly that she would not listen to anything that he had to say, but that did not stop her from admiring what he showed her, and opening her mind to wonders of which she caught but a glimpse.

All he had needed was to lead the threat away, intent as it was on updating an individual with higher potential than any human could ever offer. A quick trip in the TARDIS had done the trick.

He knows, even now that he sees _his_ end fast approaching, that he will never forget the look of wonder in her blue eyes when he opened the doors with a snap of his fingers and they stepped inside. Her narrowed irises had widened as her eyes gazed on the console, and then at the room at large, her long braided hair swinging lightly from side to side as she had closed in on him and readied herself to punch the answers out of him if he did not volunteer the information, and fast. He remembers considering that maybe, just maybe, looks could in fact be attractive.

He had given her but a grin, stating, or squeaking like she would later enjoy reminding him, his plan to quench both her questions and her threats. He offered her a test run to wherever she may like, to follow this somewhat imposed one, without even thinking about it. The rest had been history. He had argued with himself afterwards that her strong character and sharp wit had proven invaluable, and that was why he offered in the first place.

Whatever the reasons that had first compelled him to seek her companionship, she had changed him for the better, she really had. Among the memories now coursing through his mind, he sees who he was before. A hero, maybe, but he was haunted, haunted by what he had done during the Time War, what stopping the suffering had required of him and his people. Having her by his side forced him to stand up to his demons; he could no longer run from them like he used to and seek redemption by saving whomever he could.

She took the time to know him, to understand what it meant to be who he was, to do what he did. He would forever be thankful to her for that simple fact. She looked up to him, but not with the same awe and wonder that everybody else does. She saw first and foremost the _man_ he is, and she had come to respect him for the choices he constantly has to make. She had met a battle-hardened hero; she discovered and helped a man.

And yet she kept him from wallowing in self-pity, or from gloating for that matter, with her constant nagging about his matchstick appearance and sandshoes. In her eyes, he is not some 900 years old alien with the unruly auburn hair and general complexion of a young man, with only his incredibly old green gaze to attest for his age. He is not something strange and otherworldly. Well, he _is_ strange, and crazy, but he is enough of a man that she could relate to him, and feel close to him. To what extent she felt this closeness could get is a train of thought he has tried to banish from his mind for almost as long as she has joined him in his adventures.

And now all he can feel is the dread of what lies ahead of him. He had stumbled upon this adventure carefree, like he had done a thousand times before. It had not taken long for him to realize just what it was he had gotten himself into. This was not the usual mystery they _both_ enjoyed and craved. His last brother, the only other son of Gallifrey still alive, was not to be considered by any means as just another foe. On prior occasions, sheer luck had allowed him to walk away unscathed. This time he had something to loose, heck he would lose _her_ one way or another. He could but decide how it would all go down.

She had anchored him. Because of her he had the strength to fight his demons. And if he had one demon, it was _him_. However, this battle was not hers. He would like to convince himself that this is his way of repaying her, but the excuse feels hollow. He can only hope that she will understand, given time, and that she might, maybe, forgive him.

She would remain the defining aspect of _his_ life. Even though he very much doubts _he_ has much time left.

"Take this to the TARDIS, and put it in the charger for the sonic," he says, one hand ruffling through his hair before resting awkwardly on the nape of his neck, the other handing her the device he eyes fearfully, as if it was responsible of what was about to happen. "Please listen to me and do as I say." He looks at her even though it physically hurts him, and he dares to hope that when she reflects back on this conversation, she will remember his silent plea for forgiveness.

She takes the device dubiously, watching him so intently that he feels his expression falter. She lets on some of the fear she seems to feel, not for herself, but for the yet incomprehensible horror of what he is about to do.

"What are you gonna do?" She waits for him to answer, but she is met with only silence. Apprehensive, gut-wrenching silence. "Just… Promise me it won't go wrong."

He nods, if ever so slightly, and she smiles half-heartedly. He cannot help but think she has chosen to ignore an advice given to her by a friend of his. _Rule #1: The Doctor lies_. He feels all the worse for the blatant example of the trust in which she holds him.

His gaze flickers briefly to the manor he is about to storm in order to confront his nemesis, before he watches her speed towards the blue box lying by the gate. It is like he can see her, barely a few minutes into the future, when she realizes what he has done. When she stands on the steps of her own home, when the TARDIS locks her out and the unmistakable sound of its engine roaring back to life finally betrays his plan. He pictures her, helpless but for the punches kicks on the door and the screams and curses into the empty air.

What he does not picture are a few silent tears streaking down her cheeks and the tightening in her throat as she finally settles down. Her utterly helpless tone as she calls out to him, her voice barely above a whisper, her whole body numb as she sits on her front porch. He cannot see the emptiness of her gaze and the steely determination of her demeanor as, far into the night, she slowly rises up to her feet and makes her way inside, locking the door behind her, as if she could somehow lock away the memories of the last few years past by side.

"I'm so, so sorry, Astrid" he says out loud as, in the distance, she steps inside the TARDIS and he catches a final glimpse of her golden hair.


End file.
